


Guardian Angel

by Mina Lightstar (ukefied)



Series: Comment Fic Fills [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Comment Fic, Community: comment_fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:22:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ukefied/pseuds/Mina%20Lightstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I walked into the garage and you were telling the bikes you were not that drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guardian Angel

**Author's Note:**

> For the TFLN comment_fic prompts. Also filled [here](http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/356124.html?thread=62478364#t62647068).
> 
> Takes place between Season 5-6 (the missing year.)

Lisa knows he drinks. She’s known he was a drinker since the day he walked though her door and decided to stay. She doesn’t like it, but so far she hasn’t tried to change it. Maybe she knows he needs time. Maybe she’s afraid the withdrawal would kill him faster.

He doesn’t deserve her and he knows this, so he tries to spare her and Ben the serious benders. He waits until Ben is at a sleepover and Lisa is visiting her mother before starting his “Miller Time” shift. He sits back against the sofa cushions and cracks open the first beer. It makes a satisfying hiss and goes down cold.

Cas finds him after the bottle of Jack.

***

Cas hovers like S—like a mother hen. He stands awkwardly by the bathtub as Dean makes offerings to the porcelain god. Dean holds the seat for balance and fumbles for the lever. It rattles uselessly under his pawing hand and finally it’s Cas who flushes for him.

“Thanks,” Dean rasps, rolling over to sit back against the cupboards. He closes his eyes, revels in the fuzziness, the detachment — the numbness.

“Dean,” Cas ventures. “Are you sure you won’t let me…”

“No!” he snaps, a bit too harshly. He opens his eyes, spies Cas’s outstretched fingers swirling in his vision. “ _Don’t,_ ” he says.

Cas lets his hand drop. “I don’t understand your affection for intoxication.”

Dean fiddles with his t-shirt. “It’s not the intoxication I love,” he mutters. When Cas cocks his head, Dean says more loudly, “You’re killing my buzz, man.”

The angel gives him a long look. Dean fidgets beneath the gaze. Finally, the angel comes to sit down across from him. The bathroom isn’t that big, so Cas’s legs end up crossed between the V of Dean’s.

“Are you,” Cas pauses, searching for the right word, “content here, Dean?”

“What do you care?” Dean wants to know, rubbing his face. “Why do you even keep coming around? Don’t you have angel cattle to corral or something?”

Cas stares at him again. The intense blue eyes are starting to get on Dean’s nerves. Cas lifts his chin and changes the subject. “You weren’t in the house. I walked into the garage, and you were telling the bicycles you were not that drunk.”

“Well, I wasn’t,” Dean replies. “Like those punks could tell.” He fixes Cas with a glare. “You didn’t answer me.”

Cas stands up, offers a hand. “Will you at least come sit on the couch?”

Dean looks away, resolute. “Thought you were the new sheriff in town. Why are you down here babysitting me?” It’s nasty and unwarranted, but Cas has been shifty since the Apocalypse.

There’s a flutter of wings, and Castiel is gone, leaving him a drunken heap on the bathroom floor. Dean doesn’t see Cas for nine months.


End file.
